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Lightdimension Neptunia [Moon Hound Hati X Mini Magi]


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"So... How many days has it been by now?" Asked one of the small fairies in the room. And for good reason. "2 days," replied the other and turned the page on the magazine. Croire took another bite out of the food the staff provided for them, which with her proportions, was at least quite filling. But especially she could not watch this dinky little TV all day. Why they were there in the first place? Quite simple. They had to be there, for the one that was technically their master, laid quietly in one of the hospital beds. Croire flew over to him once more. "Gotta hand it to you though. He looks as if nothing happened." His condition was bordering on lethal when this young man was brought here. But now? All wounds were healed, his body was as good as new even. And... Wait, did he just move? "Histy! Look at that." The other fairy went over to the first, and 2 pairs of eyes watched his face very closely. "Is he...?"

Spoiler

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Croire
A direct fairy, and record keeper of chronicles. Has the ability to access the personal history of any person.
Doesn't dislike Light, but focuses on her main goal primarily.
Is only seen by Light due to a pact forced upon her.

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Histoire
A modest fairy, and keeper of historical records. Has the ability to access the information of any historical event, no matter how small or big.
Genuinely cares for Light's wellbeing
Is only seen by Light due to a pact forced upon her.

 

Edited by Mini Magi
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  • 1 month later...

Darkness.

That was all he knew. That was all he… remembered. There was simply a void where his conscious memories were supposed to be. This was the singular thought that spun circles in his mind as his eyelids slowly cracked open. A surge of uneasiness flowed through him as the light stung, telling him he’d not opened his eyes for quite some time now. These observations were fed to him from his subconsciousness, which meant he likely still retained vital life skills such as reading and writing. This kept him somewhat calm.

Next, he felt pain. It was not the kind that endangered his immediate health or even life, but rather one induced from a sore and aching body, reinforcing his suspicions that he’d been unconscious for quite some time. Blinking a few times as a grunt escaped his parched lips, an unfamiliar ceiling came into focus. Where was this…?

Relying on what information his subconscious memories and “gut feeling,” as the laymen would put it, were feeding him, he prioritized assessing his whereabouts and safety. Lifting his head slightly, his eyes peered around, noting that he was in a medical facility of some sort – likely a hospital. But a moment later, his attention was laser-focused on two small creatures that were approximately thirty centimeters in height. They seemed… familiar. Perhaps they knew him from before the loss of his memories, but that was obviously nothing more than pure speculation. Slowly pushing himself up into a sitting position, uttering another grunt induced by the soreness in the process, he proceeded to look directly at the pair without uttering a single word. He was gambling on the possibility that they would address him in some manner, be it his name or otherwise, that would indicate that there was some sort of pre-established relationship between them.

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Oh? So far so good. He got up by himself, looked around even... but why the silence? "Hey there~ Congrats on not being dead yet." She took it rather lightly, simply satisfied that he seemed to be doing okay now. "While true, please try to show a bit more empathy Croire. His injuries were nothing to joke at." Histoire took off to the food that was left for him and once there, held her hand towards the platter everything was on, causing it to float, then levitate towards his bed. "Hey, if you wanna be the soft one, go for it Histy. I'll make sure it stings so he doesn't repeat THAT dumb idea." Once the platter was on his lap, Histoire turned to Croire, who looked like she was ready to get on the blonde's nerves. "And another thing. My name is Histoire. Not Histy." Sparks were definitely ready to fly, but it was Croire who leaned back and turned to him first. "Whatever. Now that you had your test run, what do we do next?"

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  • 3 weeks later...

No clear answers to the main question he had: who was he? There were just bits and pieces he could deduce from the words of the pint-sized girls. What’s more, at least one of them, the more mild-mannered one, possessed powers of some origin that allowed her to effortlessly float a tray with food over onto his lap. Something told him they were not ordinary beings.

Without a word, he meticulously impaled a baby carrot with the plastic fork that had been laying on the tray, next to the food. He chewed on it slowly as he stared down at his food, thinking about what to do next. From what he could gather, he had been in some sort of “test run” for something or another. Was he the one who had set up the test, or simply a willing or unwilling test subject? Given the lack of restraints or guards present in the room, he dismissed the notion – for now, at least – that he was a captive of some sort.

“There seems to be… a gap… in my memory,”  he eventually said, softly, quietly, raising his head to look at the two tiny blondes. “What happened…? And where am I?”

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Histoire was about to answer and fill him in with even the basic details, but Croire raised a hand to her mouth, gesturing her to be silent. Her expression was serious. As if there was trouble. With Histoire quiet, Croire hovered over to him, a bit close to his face. "How big of a gap are we talking?" She waited for a response, but he didn't give one. "...Think quick. What is your name?" Tiny little moments passed, the ticking of the clock on the wall being the only sound in the room... until Croire fell back with a groan because she could tell by his reaction that he didn't try to keep it secret. He was at a genuine loss of words. "Ughhhhh." Defeated, the little fairy fell with her book onto his lap. This wasn't a small gap. It was THE gap. 

Histoire read the room, and went closer to Croire. "Wait. Can't you simply read and tell him his chronicles?" But Croire shook her head, then flailed her little first around, obviously annoyed by the whole situation. "If I could, I wouldn't be so down!" At least sitting up again, she continued. "I can only look up people by name, or unique details. But SOMEONE-" She glared at him. "Decided to be secretive and didn't tell me his name in the first place!" She looked at Histoire again, still grumpy. "And do you know what that means?" Histoire thought, and unfortunately yes. She sighed, arms and her head hung low after that. "Our deal won't work out." They seemed to be in unison about this. Whatever their deal was, their amnesia plagued companion was the mother of all wrenches in their plan. 

Snapping out of it, Histoire turned to him while Croire continued to sulk as she hovered with her book to the foot end of the bed. "I just realized that this means you must have many questions. It's not much, but I'll tell you as much as I know." She started with the two of them, and how despite their sizes, Croire and Histoire technically qualified as goddesses of history. All that happened in the world would be constantly recorded in their little tomes, where Croire held individual chronicles, and Histoire general history. Hence, why Histoire had assumed Croire could simply look up his chronicles. Due to a by now very far in the past event that she didn't explain in detail, both of them were sealed, and just shortly unsealed by none other than him. "As for the reason of our troubles: You only partly undid our seals, and currently we are bound to you. You mentioned that you had the means to completely break our seals, and would do so if we accompanied you in your quest." Croire chimed in, still sulking on the other hand on the bed. "He called it mission." Not paying it too much mind, Histoire continued. Croire would be fine. She just needed to work this through in her own way. "Which brings us to now. With you not having your memories, it is likely we will remain bound to you, which rises concerns considering a human's life span." That was as far as Histoire's explanation could go. Letting out a sigh, and trying to focus on the issue at hand, Croire turned around and walked on the bed towards him, arms crossed, but looking more focused. "As for what happened, you wanted to test out how much power I could give you. And despite my warnings, you went for it anyway. Don't be too hard on yourself, I guess, though. You had no chance of knowing that the monsters you went for would have this much backup. After you got knocked out, an adventurer found you thanks to all the noise you made, brought you here, and here we are now." 

Then, a stroke of genius hit her, and she exclaimed "Your stuff!" Obviously he had no idea what she was talking about, so she continued. "Long story short: Your arsenal is a heavy caliber handgun, a shield, and a set of armor. If we're lucky, maybe there is a stamp of ownership with your name on it somewhere?" Histoire looked doubtful. How likely was it that he had his name written anywhere like a child when he was so secretive he didn't even tell him their name in the first place? But to be honest, she'd try to reach for that straw too if Croire didn't already. So with that in mind, Histoire spoke up. "As much as I wish for that, in case we don't find anything, or you don't wish to tell us your name afterwards anyway, may I propose a temporary name at least? It's not much, but how about Light? It might be a bit on the nose given your hair, but..." 

Edited by Mini Magi
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  • 1 month later...

What a frustrating feeling to have; to know the information lurks somewhere deep within your cranium, yet be unable to access it. He should know these miniature girls, yet he did not. The one with the black dress fell into his lap with a hefty groan of frustration and he honestly felt like uttering a similar sentiment but restrained himself. A back and forth between the two girls followed, from which he picked a few interesting tidbits here and there. First and foremost, he’d chosen to keep his name hidden from them. His past self must have had a reason for doing so. Mistrust, perhaps? Furthermore, these two were goddesses in the technical sense of the word in this world. They were bound to him, seeing as he’d allegedly only partially undone the seals placed upon them. Had he really been knocked out in a fight with monsters after overreaching with these alleged powers he’d gotten from these two? That sounded… frustratingly stupid. Had he been such a fool? The thought alone had him unintentionally clench his fist while a light scowl crossed his face.

“Light will do… for now,” he responded once his composure returned. With at least one lead at hand, he settled down and turned sideways, swinging his legs off the side of the bed. Bare feet touched the cool floor tiles, but the numbness in his legs overruled the sensation of the chill. This was very uncomfortable, he thought. Using his hands, he rubbed his upper legs over the pajama pants he wore, attempting to massage the numbness out of them a bit. Taking a few deep breaths, he attempted to stand up, only to fall back on his ass on the bed. “Guess I need a little bit…”

It wasn’t much later that a nurse came to check up on him. She was happily surprised that he’d awoken but chastised him for trying to get up by himself. The next few hours passed in a blur, as nurses and a doctor all came and went, with the latter doing an exam. It was unclear how long it would take for his memories to return, he’d told Light. There was even an off chance they’d never return but enforced the notion not to focus on that possibility. Subtly questioning what belongings he might have had on him that could offer a clue to his identity, he was told his weaponry and armor were placed in safekeeping with local authorities, and that he should check in to pick them up once he’d fully recovered. That would be after two more days. During that time, he tried picking the brains of Croire and Histoire, seeing if there was anything they could tell him that would jog his memory, but it was to no avail. It did serve to establish a bit more familiarity with the two. Croire was certainly the more brash and outspoken one, but also more openly self-interested. Meanwhile, Histoire was more mild-mannered and kind, but also a bit quieter. Either way, once he was discharged, he made his way towards the place where his gear was being kept.

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  • 1 month later...

And the place in question turned out to be the local guild branch. What kind of guild? It was simply The Guild. One big organisation that both took and offered all kinds of jobs. Helping out local shops, crafting something specific, commissions for art, assisting local authorities, you name it. If one needed something done, or needed something to do, the guild was the place to go to. At least so long as they were somewhat small or short jobs. For actual employment, one would probably look at the companies around them. In Light's case, the companies located in the winter wonderland known as Lowee. 

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"Can you believe that people can actually focus on work around here?" "It looks like a giant amusement park. Despite that, the administration, fittingly, sits in the castle." There was just so much color around. The snow was white once it fell down, but in the air it seemed to be rainbow-colored. The buildings looked silly and childish to add to the comfortable feeling. A few booths they saw on their way there as an example, looked like giant cartoon cat heads with an open mouth as storefront. But for all the overkill one could attribute to this place, there was no doubt about it. Children would love to be raised in a place like this, and adults had a place to relax at around here. 

Once inside the guild, things continued having their cute looks, but were tamed down. It was still colorful around there, but that was as far as the extent went. Once they approached the counter, a young lady gave Light all her attention. "Welcome. How can I help?" Once Light handed her some papers from the hospital, she looked over them and nodded. "I see. I'll be right back." A few minutes later, she came back with a chest on a trolley. "Follow me~" And with that done, she led Light to a change room, and left him alone with the chest. This was the moment of truth. His belongings were in there. 

 

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  • 4 weeks later...

“It’s certainly… lively,” was all Light could add to the conversation without it likely sounding rude. The combination of white snow and vibrant colors were almost blinding to his eyes, and the scenery felt almost alien to him, putting him somewhat on edge as they made their way towards the guild building. It made him wonder briefly what kind of place would feel him more at ease.

The guild was no different from what they saw outside, with plenty of playful and light-hearted designs. Approaching a counter, he was swiftly helped and soon found himself in a changing room with a chest that allegedly held his gear. Placing his hand against the curved, wooden lid, he paused for a moment, feeling a bit nervous. Brushing those feelings of uneasiness aside, he opened the chest. His calm, calculating eyes swept across the contents. First thing he removed was the pistol—no, a revolver. It felt familiar in his hand. Curling his fingers tightly around the grip felt good. His hands moved on their own, going through motions he likely practiced hundreds if not thousands of times, popping the cylinder sideways out of the frame with a quick and snappy move of his hand. No bullets were loaded into the chambers, but he’d have been surprised if it were otherwise. On the lower portion of the barrel a single word was engraved in the metal.

“Payload,” he muttered softly. It sounded familiar, but it did not jog any of his lost memories.

Popping the cylinder back into place, he carefully placed down the revolver on the table, next to the chest. The next items he took from the chest was a collection of armor pieces that easily slipped into place. They were all branded with the word “Rootkit.” Last was a foldable shield that attached itself to his left arm gautlet and folded in and out seemingly by thought alone; “Firewall,” this one was called.

“So, none of these seem to carry my real name…” he concluded as he picked up the pistol and instinctively placed it at his hip, where it attached to his armor without the need for a holster. Another magnet, perhaps?

“Now what?” he asked his two small companions.

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  • 2 weeks later...

His companions watched curiously, but silently as he explored the contents of the box. Not that they were unfamiliar with it, but it was still interesting to watch how his passive memories remained. Some part of him still remembered how to put the armor on, where to put Payload even. But of course, their little plan failed regardless. "Well, I'm not giving up either way. I'll try comparing your case to other people who had amnesia." And with a puff of light, Croire vanished. Histoire remained as there was likely no historic event related to a single amnesia case. "It might not be much for now, but what would you think about joining the Guild?" Histoire pulled out one of the pamphlets out of her book that she quietly nabbed as they came in, and held it over to Light. Joining the guild would have quite a few benefits. A source of income, assistance from people in somewhat similar situations, and most importantly: A communication device. For each registration, the Guild handed out phones and headsets, which wouldn't just give Light access to the information network for free, but make him able to reach people and be reached. The only downside would be that he would have to start from the bottom.

"I believe there was a quest board in the lobby. Let's go see what kind of work is offered." Once out of the room and back at the lobby, there was indeed a quest board. Several in fact. They were monitors, all showing the same information until interacted with. Watching others, both of them would see that people interacted with these monitors using their phones, sorting quests by rank, rewards, and once taking the quest, how it vanished off all monitors and other phones. Though that didn't seem to always happen. In other cases, the quest just had a number on it. "I think I understand. Some quests simply don't require more people. Like this one. While quests in dangerous areas are generally welcoming the competition and potential extra help." After all, sometimes a dangerous quest could become more dangerous, while by contrast, a small company could fit only so many dishwashers into their kitchen.

Most of the quests going in and out were of a higher rank. As for the initial low rank quests, there were:
-Kitchen help needed. 
-Our school needs help to prepare tonight's theater performance props (mostly painting and nailing simple things together)
-Courier runner fell sick, need fast replacement. 
-We made a firing range. Need a marksman to give it a shot.
-Farm produce lower than it should be. Can someone check for monsters?
 

Edited by Mini Magi
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  • Mini Magi changed the title to Lightdimension Neptunia [Moon Hound Hati X Mini Magi]
  • 4 months later...

Light took the offered pamphlet without as much as a word. Crimson-red eyes darted left to right as he absorbed the information, mulling over the suggestion given by Histoire. Reasoning fed by subconscious knowledge reasoned it was as good as any option currently available. With no name, no memories, and seemingly no financial funds, he would have to act soon in order to even ensure basic survival. To attain food and shelter he would need funds. Logic dictated it would be unwise to engage in crime to achieve this, so this guild presented a more legal option. On top of that, a phone and headset would offer him relatively easy access to remote communication means.

After officially registering and being handed the aforementioned phone and headset, Light spent a few minutes setting them up for his personal use and to his personal preferences. Heading to the large monitors that made up the quest board, his eyes scanned across the various available jobs as he nodded in agreement to the assessment of his much smaller companion.

“I’ll have to start from the bottom,” he said softly as he tapped his chin thoughtfully, trying to categorize the odd jobs in order of difficulty, danger, and a rough estimate of the time they would consume. 

“...We’ll start with the firing range,” he eventually decided. It would be the quickest of the bunch, while also giving him an opportunity to get reacquainted with his revolver. After registering for the quest via the official guild app on his phone, he let its navigation app guide him to the shooting range. The premise was simple: he had to slowly move through a newly constructed winter wonderland-themed shooting range, popping off angry snowmen and other cartoonish bad guys as he did so. While the range had its own assortment of weaponry that shot digital blanks known as holo-rounds, their software for it was, surprisingly, compatible with his revolver, Payload. This surprised even the shooting range owner, but it was eventually shrugged off as an interesting turn of events.

Taking a few rounds through the course, Light was silently surprised at how dexterous his body was, taking down the holographic enemies with nearly perfectly lined up and swift shots. Was he such an expert marksman? Then how did he mess up so badly that it left him injured to the point of amnesia? Questions upon questions.

“That is one job completed,” he said to the fairies after they had left the shooting range. “I should have time for one more today. That should provide enough funds for at least two nights at the inn and three meals…” Pausing briefly, he stopped in his tracks and turned to look at the two girls with a quizzical expression, head slightly tilted to one side. “You two… do eat, right?”

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  • 1 month later...

One job done, and a fair amount of credits on his newly formed account. Looking around, it seemed like most people paid with their phones at the register. Others used physical money. To each their own it seemed.

Histoire and Croire followed behind, even as he went through the shooting range. As much as they wanted to help him back there, it was probably best to let him test his own set of skills first. They would work with what they could do together soon enough~ At the question of food, Croire sad on his left shoulder. "Yup~ So feed us properly~" Histoire sat down on his other shoulder in the meantime. His armor was somewhat good to sit on it seemed. "Not that we can't survive without food, but... I admit, the culinary achievments are not something I would want to live without." "Curry, grilled fish, steamed buns~" "Maybe... pudding?" So on the bright side, he at least wouldn't have to worry about their survival. But it seemed he would have to worry about their gourmet appetite. Ah but it would be fine. Surely he would prefer proper food over dried rations.

Looking over the still available quests, Croire mused over one of the options. "You know, that courier job might be worth looking into. Plus, now that you are comfy with moving around again, how about we step it up? Ready Histy?" "Ready." the second cyber fairy replied, and both of them vanished with a little puff of sparkles. Rather quickly, he would notice something. That his armor... no, his body felt lighter. Odd considering he didn't suddenly develop extra muscles, but... it felt so. "This is our combined Super State Drive. Both Croire and I are now enhancing your abilities. From me, you're getting improvements to your body's capabilities. I will also heal all wounds. Minor ones rather quickly too." "And from me, you're getting more punch for your equipment~ Check Payload's chambers as example." Upon doing so, it turned that every single one of them was loaded. But not with physical bullets. They looked transparent. Like holograms. "Don't let that fool you. They hit just as hard as actual bullets, but will vanish a couple seconds after being shot. And even if you hammer the fan, I'll keep up and keep them loaded~" There were of course downsides, but the explanation of those could wait for later.

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  • 3 months later...

Light had considered simply stocking up on rations and supplements for sustenance, but it seemed he couldn’t be skimping on meals if he wished to keep the two tiny fairies in an agreeable mood. Time to recalibrate his plans again, he thought. After the pair went on to suggest he take on the courier job as his second and final quest for their first day of work, they explained their Super State Drive – he’d call it SSD for short henceforth – and what benefits it would supply him. No doubt there would be some limitations or downsides to it, but they didn’t appear to share that info at that moment in time. With a flick of his wrist, he snapped open Payload’s chambers and noted they were filled with holographic-like ammunition.

“Understood,” he said simply and calmly as he holstered his firearm again. Taking out his phone, he used the guild app to accept the courier’s job and set the GPS coordinates for the quest giver’s location. “Let’s go.”

Once there they arrived at the location and initiated a conversation with the quest giver, he was given a packaged item with a backpack to carry it in, along with an address to deliver it to. Making use of the GPS once more, he turned on the voiced directions and had the phone connect to the wireless earbuds he’d found among his equipment earlier. Taking it as a good chance to test his physical prowess, he set forth, dashing through the streets of the town. It seemed that even without any SSD boost from his fairies, he was in extremely good shape, possessing not only excellent stamina, but also the reflexes and instincts to bob and weave through the crowds, and to use the terrain to his advantage by effortlessly parkouring his way over walls, fences, rooftops, and whatnot.

It was almost in record time that he made the delivery, earning him a nice little bonus reward once he reported back to the quest giver via phone. The funds were directly transferred to his account once the quest was flagged as completed by the guild. “We should find a place to spend the night,” he went on to suggest calmly to Croire and Histoire. Pulling out his phone once more, he used the GPS and web search functions to find hotels and inns in the area. “Any preference?” he asked as he scrolled through the list of offerings. It didn’t matter much to him, as long as it was affordable with their current funds.

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